


Danse's interview

by Cherish_Dipp



Series: Danse's interview [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Danse has changed (considering what happened and the trauma), Mentions of Suicide, Post-Blind Betrayal, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 19:36:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11607552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherish_Dipp/pseuds/Cherish_Dipp
Summary: Piper decided it would be a great idea to interview Danse. His perspective on the Brotherhood and the Commonwealth, with all that had happened to him, might make an interesting read. He surprisingly agreed.What was probably most surprising however were his answers.





	Danse's interview

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, hi :D I... hope this is okay? It was beta read by my dearest friend, who is also an incredible writer (Setari, you can look her up on here <3) so the mistakes should be on the small side. However, she's not into Fallout at all, doesn't know the 'verse or anything so... Yeah, I tried my best with these characters. I hope I didn't butcher Danse, or anyone else, too much...
> 
> He needs an redemption arc. NEEDS IT. _NOW._
> 
> Anyway. I hope you enjoy.

“I want to interview you.” Was the first thing Piper said when she sat down in front of Danse with several pages of blank paper and a pen.

Danse nearly dropped the screwdriver he was holding and stared at her. “I- Excuse me?” 

“I want to interview you.” She repeated, shuffling the papers on the table until they were neat and straight, “I… was hoping I could get your thoughts down. What was the Brotherhood like? What do you think of it now, compared to…” She waved a hand at nothing in particular, “Back then. What’s different in your perspective and the way you see things. With what has happened to you, how much about you has changed? You know, that sort of thing. It’d be an interesting perspective for people!”

Danse stared at her with a bemused expression. ‘Back then’ meant back when he sneered at Hancock, threateningly kept his gun ready around Valentine and treated the settlers and the rest of the companions as if… Well, he didn’t know how to treat them, so it came off badly. In other words, he didn’t make himself popular.

It had been… around a year now, since he found out his, erm, _true origins._ A good portion of said last year was him going through an identity crisis and an existential crisis on top of figuring out his current purpose for living, how he was going to get back all those years he dedicated to the Brotherhood (that still hurt, he was still working through that one) and how the Brotherhood wasn’t… _maybe_ as great as he made it out to be. Maybe. (He _just_ came to terms with that one, Piper’s timing was so impeccable it was scary).

With Sole’s support, and his own stubbornness and dedication redirected, there was a little light that promised the end of the tunnel. Hell, even Preston offered him a good place within the Minutemen, which Danse hesitated to accept. He said he’d think about it. And he did, often.

“I’m also curious.” That came from Hancock, sat next to Nick Valentine, now also watching him. Neither of their expressions gave any hint as to what they were thinking. “Even we’ll admit you’re pretty different now.”

Danse… wasn’t expecting that comment. Was it a compliment? Or, far more likely, just stating a fact. He had changed. 

The ghoul and synth were a little further down the table, and it just then occurred to Danse how far he had come. A year ago, he couldn’t stand being in the same settlement as them, and made it clear he didn’t like being in the same room as them. But now? He was… comfortable; doing patrols, helping Sturges fix machinery (he seemed to have slipped into the role of maintaining the guns around Sanctuary) while everyone else eventually learned to relax around him and even himself around the resident non-humans. Still, no one really approached to simply talk to him, or paid him much attention, except Sole. And he was fine with that. He didn’t really deserve their company after all.

But Preston had stopped cleaning his gun, and whatever Deacon and Sole had been discussing ceased behind him as well. Codsworth carried on his organising and dusting, but was noticeably slower. Curie, opposite Valentine and Hancock, looked up from her computer curiously. Even Dogmeat perked up where he had been laying nearby his feet, his head adorably cocked to one side.

Danse had a strong vibe he wasn’t able to avoid this. Of course he didn’t have to answer her questions, but if he wanted… _more_ from this place, actually turn Sanctuary into a home (and not just because he didn’t have anywhere else to go, he practically rebuilt his life from scratch here), then… he needed to come straight and had to show that. 

He sighed, putting his screwdriver down. He glanced at his half modded helmet with a forlorn look, before staring at Piper expectantly. “What is it you want to ask?”

Piper did a little excited wiggle in her seat, twirled her pen in her hand and pinned Danse down with an intense gaze. 

“Okay.” She started, “I need to confirm a couple of things first – You were a Paladin, correct?”

Danse paled and his heart stuttered. Shit. He has an idea where this could go, but now could see _exactly_ where this was going. “Affirmative.” He managed evenly. 

“What does that mean?”

Danse swallowed, then took a breath. “It’s a rank where you are in charge of all security and are involved in any missions and investigations outside the headquarters or main bases of the Brotherhood, depending on where you are stationed.”

“Okay.” Piper said, writing that down. “We’ll go into detail with that later. What did the Brotherhood require of you? Like, what did they ask of you as a soldier who fought for them?”

Danse couldn’t help but snort at that question. “Everything.” He answered matter-of-factly, “Loyalty, dedication and complete obedience. You were expected to lay down your life for the Brotherhood in the name of the Elder, in battle or..." He hesitated, "... Basically you were expected to carry out your orders to the best of your ability.”

He heard someone mutter something scornful, but didn’t catch what was said or who said it. Thankfully, Piper didn’t bring up the fact the Brotherhood expected him to take his own life, nor the fact how close he came to doing it.

(Within the privacy of his own mind, he gently pushed that away. He had already dealt with that).

“Annnd… you were kicked out. Can you… elaborate on that?”

Danse gave her baleful stare, but she was clearly used to such a reaction from her questions because she didn’t back down one bit. He sighed and answered, “I’m a… synth, as it turns out. The Brotherhood has vowed to eradicate… _my_ kind… so it was impossible for me to stay. As such, I was exiled by Elder Maxon and ordered to be destroyed.” The corner of his mouth quirked upwards as he thought of his dearest friend behind him, listening. “Sole disobeyed direct orders from the Elder and that alone is treason, the punishment for it is death by the way, and instead brought me here.”

He didn’t have to look behind him to know there was a smug grin on that bastard’s face. Piper also had a pleased expression – she clearly approved of the decision-making.

“Mhm. So, now that you’re out, it’s been a year or more and you’ve had some time to… adjust,” Danse nearly scoffed at that. He often felt there was never going to be enough time in the world for him to get used to what happened and what he was, “Your actions and how you talk are different than to what they were before you stayed for real here. What would you say has changed the most about you? What have you learnt during your time here, away from the Brotherhood?”

Danse had to give it to her, Piper was quite good at her job. He was silent for a while, staring at the mechanical mess that was his helmet, wishing he could go back to it. But a part of him wanted to… let people know, let himself know especially, that nothing was the same anymore.

“Well…” He finally spoke, “I have learnt that… The reason people can be so stubborn about what they believe and what they do… Is because… they think that they’re doing good.” He gestured with his hands, “ _They_ are the good side. If there’s a good side, then there’s a bad side which can pretty much turn out to be anything that’s different from them.”

Piper looked… for a lack of a better word, surprised at his answer, as if she was expecting something completely different to what he was going to say. Danse took that as a small victory and even allowed himself to feel smug about it.

“But the crux of the matter” He continued, “Is that when it comes down to it, people… just find different ways to fight that suits them. There is no right way. As long as you’re not killing innocents, whether you’re just gunning them down or taking away what they need to survive – whatever it is, if you’re not doing that but doing what you can in your own way to help, then that’s okay.

“The… issue with the Brotherhood is that we- _they.”_ Danse winced at his slip up, but carried on, “Have only one way. And… I have found – I have _seen_ \- and have come to understand, it just doesn’t work like that. Because, as I said before, people have different ways of fighting that suit them. Or maybe they just don’t want to live like that. And if it doesn’t work for you, it’s not going to work at all. The Brotherhood doesn’t work for everyone – it has rules people must obey, but if you don’t agree with certain rules, or any of them, then it, again, doesn’t work. It worked for me (up to a certain point),” Danse muttered that last bit with a small cringe, but he shook it off, “But it wouldn’t work, let’s say… for you.” He gestured at Piper, who had yet to write down another word and was simply staring at him, “You fight with words. And… that’s okay. In this world, amongst the shooting, even when the people getting shot deserve every bullet, it’s completely normal but everyone knows it shouldn’t be at the _same time._

“You are doing something different. You’re fighting in your own, different way. There are no bullets – only words and a bit of paper and yet I’ve still seen you still make a difference… and that’s what matters. That way wouldn’t work for the rest of us, but that’s okay. I have learnt… There is no one way. We're too individual.”

Silence followed, and Danse’s ears turned red. He attempted to cover it up by organizing some tools and screws on his work surface. Piper managed to stop staring and finally start taking notes, but cleared her throat and spoke as she wrote. “What- what do you think… needs to happen then? What message, what advice can we get out there to help people understand?” She looked up at him through her fringe. “What… made _you_ understand?”

Danse rubbed the back of his neck. He could feel everyone else in the room watching him. He had a feeling… his next words were going to matter a lot, in more ways than one. “I…” He began hesitantly, then was quiet for some time. Piper let him be.

Eventually, he took a breath, nodding slightly to himself as he came to an agreement in his head. “I think…” He said, thumbing a screw on the table, “I think people… just need to listen. I mean,” He rushed on, knowing a couple of eyebrows were raised at that statement. “I only recently came to the decision that… What I believed about others? Might have been wrong. I was doing what I did with good intentions, but that doesn’t mean all of my actions were, in fact, good.” Danse closed his eyes, his hand curling into a fist. This hurt to admit, it turned his insides into an aching mess and he ground his teeth together… but it needed to be said. Sometimes the Brotherhood didn't really check if some ghouls were feral or not. Sometimes they didn't care.

“The reason I was able to carry out my position so well was because… I simply thought of... ghouls, and synths,” God, this was difficult to explain. “Basically anyone who _wasn’t_ us- I mean the Brotherhood – as 'abominations'. Or, if they were innocents, 'citizens'.”

(And then it just occurred to Danse that ghouls never entered equation of being a 'citizen').

Piper frowned, “Can you… explain that a bit more?” She asked quizzically.

Danse waved a hand as he tried to find the right words, “Well, I think it was in the words and- and labels." This sounded stupid, even to his own ears, "Because since the Brotherhood, and I, didn’t refer to them as _people,_ then it was much easier to think… that they weren’t. Does that make sense? By not referring to them as people… it was enough, and made it much easier, to forget that they weren't one of us.” 

Piper nodded slowly, light dawning in her eyes. Danse felt relieved that it wasn’t entirely crazy theory.

“And it just made everything easier,” He carried on, shrugging, “To us, the Brotherhood, there were good guys. We were the good guys, and there were bad guys… And then everyone else who could, should, choose a side, but didn’t, so they couldn’t be trusted.” He looked at Piper again to make sure she was following. She nodded, and encouraged him to continue.

“So, when I said listening would help things… I mean listening from both sides. A conversation, or a discussion. You need to ask questions, and then _listen.”_ He gazed at his rough, scarred hands, rubbing a thumb over an old white mark he couldn’t remember how he got, “I began asking questions.” 

He could just see in his peripheral vision those yellow eyes, watching him carefully. Valentine probably put two and two together at this point as the old synth was one of the first people he went to with those questions. Why do you do what you do? How do you come to a decision? What do you do when everyone else is asleep? What about eating? Why do you smoke? Do you think this certain thing is right or wrong and why? Why? Why? Why?

Valentine was surprised and confused by the fact that Danse wanted to _talk_ to him and was shocked that the Ex-Paladin _listened._ They talked for hours. And, at some point, Danse wasn’t sure when…

…But Nick Valentine stopped being a synth, despite it being so blatantly obvious. Or, actually, it was more like Danse _forgetting_ Valentine was a synth. It was just… Valentine. Valentine the Detective who, after some discussion in the merits of having vices such as smoking when you’re synth, told him about his favourite and most interesting cases he had done over the years. He even told him a couple of failed ones too, and the regret and disdain of that failure in the synth’s voice was palpable. 

It was then Danse began to understand something.

“It started occurring to me that… Maybe I was wrong. I started talking to others.” His eyes flicked up to Curie’s large round ones and then to where the ghoul was sat. Inky blackness threatened to swallow him up as Hancock took in his every word. Going by his expression, the ghoul also just understood why Danse came to him one day, asking about ghouls, about him, about Good Neighbour. He thought Danse was taking the piss at first, but was, like Valentine, also confused and shocked when the former Paladin just _listened._ "I eventually forgot what I was talking to… and could only see _who_ they were.” And it was that easy. “And at the very least, I can now say… you don’t have to be a human, to be a person. Just by having thoughts, ability to make a decision, to be happy with something, to regret it, dreams and ambitions… Humans are not the only ones who are capable of feeling and having such things.”

 _That_ Piper scribbled down, pen going so furiously Danse was pretty sure she was going to rip the page. It was a while again before she spoke, which Danse was grateful for. He had to silently go through some breathing exercises to calm his thudding heart. His hands moved under the table as they were shaking a little.

“Okay, so let us say everyone, all factions from all sides started doing this. Talking and listening, back and forth. What do you think would happen?” She said, a smile on her face, which Danse couldn’t help but smile back at.

The former Paladin shrugged, thinking. “I’m not sure. I like to think it would stop _some_ fighting. It’s hard to hurt someone and think of them nothing more than _what_ they are when you have knowledge that allows you to understand them better. It weighs on your mind that this person, whatever they are, has had experiences, good and bad, has memories, good and bad, and has made choices that would have been good for some people and bad for others. I personally no longer feel the need to eradicate 'abominations'.” He added at the end, dryly. 

“Really?”

“Sure. What was an 'abomination' before are now just… people I didn’t understand. I still might not completely understand, but I have a better idea.”

Piper was leaning forward, tapping her pen the table for emphasis, “Wait, what about animals and such? Like, Deathclaws? What about feral ghouls?”

Ah… Danse frowned, then shrugged again. “You said yourself – they’re animals. Sure, they’re so different to what was hundreds of years ago, but those are simply various species doing what we’re trying to do which is survive. We have those now, as consequences of past actions that… could have been avoided. That’s why we have the Brotherhood of Steel. And ferals.” Danse added humorlessly. 

He paused, and then decided, yes, they should probably know this too. “It’s weird… We- the Brotherhood, did kind of know that… with feral ghouls, the transition doesn’t take place that instant, or even overnight. Turning feral is… a process. I remember overhearing an initiate on the Prydwen having a theory that it was linked to your psychological part of your brain – your will to live and such, and the weaker it is the more likely you will turn feral.”

“That’s an interesting theory. Did… you say anything to them?”

Danse snorted. “I punished them with detention – hundred hours scrubbing hallways and stairs.” He leaned on his fist, his mouth in a small grimace. “Technically… I should have reported him, and he would have gone through classes reminding him why _abominations_ were creatures that deserved no remorse and must be eradicated, not pitied nor deserved any empathy.”

“And you didn’t? Report him I mean.”

“No. I think… Pretty sure it was just an offhand comment I simply happened to overhear, and sending him to do some spring cleaning for a week was enough.” Danse remembered thinking nothing more of it at the time. “It was common, to shut down discussion like that and leave the theory-making to the Scribes who were physically studying them, to see what made them tick.

“You mentioned these classes…”

“Yes.” Danse leaned back, “We had whole classes that went into excruciating detail about what ghouls were, what synths were, what they would do to you if they saw you, and what you should do if you saw them.”

“Do I even need to ask what you ‘should’ do?”

Danse gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It was pretty simple; shoot them. There might have been some point about how, ‘some ghouls _might_ be innocent’… but since it was taught that ghouls were feral by nature, and nurtured that violent side of themselves,” He heard Hancock scoff, “It was moot.”

“Urhg… Okaaay...” Was her response. At this point, Piper had several pages of scrawled handwriting in front of her, both sides of each sheet used. “So, that was great, but we kind of went a little off topic... But I’ve got one more question.”

“Only one?” Danse asked in a surprised, but also amused tone.

Piper chuckled and flashed him a smile, “Don’t worry, I have plenty more for later. I thought I’d go easy on you for now.”

“Outstanding.” He commented, dry as the desert.

“Okay, so. Last big question: How do _you_ think the Brotherhood of Steel could do better?”

The silence was so heavy in the room it was almost like a physical weight, but the former Paladin shocked everyone when he just tipped his head back and _laughed._

Piper stared at him as his shoulders shook. “I… quite possibly should have seen that one coming.” He said, rubbing his neck nervously again. “Err… Yes. Well, the thing is, a good part of me is still… I still think the Brotherhood does good.”

He saw Piper roll her eyes and began to look disappointed but he waved that away, “Yes, I know how they react and think of others that are not them… but that doesn’t mean they do no good at all. They do protect settlements, they are trained to shut down weapons of mass destruction that are still ticking today so they’re no longer usable, they look for what was discovered pre-war and collect the information before it is lost forever…” Then Danse sighed. “And… if a person fits what they’re looking for then… they accept them into the fold, train them up and give them purpose.” 

Piper straightened up in her seat, opening her mouth argue that, but he cut off “It’s what they did for me. When it comes down to it, I wouldn’t have anything right now, if it wasn’t for them. I certainly wouldn’t be here,” He briefly thought of the idea of never having the opportunity to meet Sole, and the mere idea caused his heart to ache. “I’d probably still be scavenging.”

Piper blinked in shock at that admission, which was a small slip up on Danse’s part. Piper, and likely the others, didn’t know that part about him and he mentally kicked himself for it, but it was enough to hold her arguments back and keep her quiet.

 _”However,_ I… do see now the issues within the faction. With their beliefs and actions. I think the biggest issue with the Brotherhood… is that it’s their way or the highway. As I said earlier, people have different way of doing things in the name of doing good for the Commonwealth. Even when they realise it or not.”

Piper, pen posed, nodded him to explain. Danse shrugged and scratched his cheek, “I mean… Such as… farming. Just building a settlement and farming. It coaxing the dry ground back into soil so more agriculture is likely to grow, you’re making more food for circulation, it might become a bigger place for others to live and it might possibly build further businesses. You might become big enough to hire hands, making jobs and helping those people live and survive honestly, instead of resorting to other means.” Danse cast his eyes over to the corner, where Preston watched him under the brim of his hat before returning his gaze back to Piper. “I’ve learnt that the small things count greatly, and could even have a greater impact than the bigger things, and I have found you often need to do these small things, to have a much easier time to get to those bigger things. The Brotherhood… focuses on the bigger picture. A lot. And it is capable since it has the means to do that, but that is also why it’s able to… so _easily…_ forget and even… just discard… things…”

If anyone heard how Danse’s voice hesitated and wobbled a little at the end there, they were kind enough to not comment, or pretend they didn't notice. 

It was hard. And it hurt, so much, knowing that despite giving years of dedication, unwavering loyalty, and faith to something he believed with all he had was right and good, only to find that it didn’t matter when things weren’t what they seemed (himself being a synth) and that the good cause he dedicated his life to wasn’t… all that great after all. That he gave all those years… only to find it didn’t matter.

That, despite everything; what he thought, what had done, what he would still do, what he believed in, what he gave, each decision he made, every order he obeyed, how he felt… Who he was…

It didn’t matter. Suddenly, none of it did. He was now Danse the Synth, an abomination that was to be eradicated, signed and sealed by Elder Maxon. Danse dreamed of dying in battle, because he knew it was a glorious death and the Brotherhood would honour and remember him for his sacrifice – something no one else got out in this sorry post-apocalyptic age. You were lucky if you were buried. You were luckier if you had a post that marked your grave, and you were the luckiest dead person around if no one dug it up for a while, giving you the dignity of decomposing in peace. 

It hurt. It still hurts like a clawed grip in his chest that made it hard to breath.

But… it was more bearable now than it was a year ago. Before, just a single thought sent him on a downward spiral that would have him nearly walking out of the settlement and out into the wasteland with nothing more than a pipe pistol and whatever scraps of clothing he had on his back. He wanted what was promised.

He remembered standing at the one of the posts, looking across the river, beyond the rocky bank and staring at what he could just see over the hill, daring himself to take a step, just one step forward. 

Now?

He took a deep breath, schooled his expression and, carefully avoiding the gaze of everyone else in the room, looked at Piper who was scribbling down words and rapidly running out of paper.

Danse, after a moment, cleared his throat. “… Are… are you going to publish all of that?” His stomach dropped and cringed at the thought. He should have realised the sooner.

Piper paused, and looked up, a glint in her eye Danse was afraid to see. “Why wouldn’t I? This is the best thing I’ve had in a while!” But she must have seen his expression because she paused, and then smiled sympathetically. “I’ll tell you what; I’ll write it and I’ll let you read it first. How’s that?”

Danse didn’t want that either, he kind of didn’t want to know what would be written, but… Well. “And if I don’t like something…?”

Piper frowned, and leaned on her hand, tapping the pen against the table. “… We can change it around. It has to stick to the truth, and I don’t like omitting things, but… if it’s… too much for you, we can take another look. Deal?”

Danse hesitated, then nodded.

The smile that flicked across her face made him feel as if he had just made the worst decision of his life though.

…Ah well. It would be a bit funny if someone from the Brotherhood read it. He was surprised he didn’t feel at all apprehensive at the idea. They likely wouldn’t, they didn’t bother with the paper when he was there so he wasn’t too worried, but it was pretty funny to imagine the look on some certain faces. (He could imagine Haley being… pleased. He was pretty sure she would be.)

During his thoughts, someone’s chair scrapped back and Danse didn’t notice Hancock coming up behind him, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when the ghoul clapped a hand on his shoulder. 

Danse whipped his head round to see Hancock grinning down at him. “Good talk guys.” The ghoul said to the rest of the room, “But I think it’s time for a drink after that. Wanna come, crew cut?”

Sole had recently fixed up a bar on the roof, deciding the settlement needed one badly. Danse rarely went up there, the guilt of how he spoke to and treated people before weighing on him, making himself alone feel unwelcome.

“A drink sounds… agreeable.” Danse said, after a moment.

“I want a drink too…” Sole said as he stood and stretched, “Codsworth, where’s Buddy? We need him!” 

Codsworth spun around on the spot, finally leaving the thoroughly dusted cabinet alone for the first time since the interview started. “I shall fetch him, sir, and send him straight up!”

“You’re the best, Codsworth!” Deacon grinned at the butler. He was already standing by the stairs leading to the roof. “Last one up there is an irradiated deathclaw!”

Sole punched Deacon in the arm and went up, Dogmeat leaping up with a bark and happily trotting behind them. Curie giggled, “Monsieur Danse, tis’ so good to see you have come so far! I knew you could.” She said, closing down the computer, smiling at him.

Danse, unsure how to response to that, gave her a small smile back and watched her follow the two men to the roof. Piper gathered up her notes and skirted around the table and chairs, pausing a moment to quickly squeeze Danse's shoulder, giving him a thankful smile and a wink, before making a beeline straight to where Curie disappeared. They could just about hear her asking the synth if it would be okay to borrow Curie’s computer for a bit, pretty please?

Preston chuckled, languidly stood and strapped his gun to his back. “That was… interesting.” He said, looking at Danse with a smile.

“Agreed.” Nick stubbed out his fag on the one of ash trays and stood up. “You’ve given certain people something to think about round here with that.”

Danse frowned at that statement. “…I have? It was you who took the time to explain things to me.”

The ghoul, now leaning on Danse’s shoulder just to be annoying, chuckled. “Aw c’mon. When you first came here, you had the straightest, biggest stick up your ass-“

“John.” Valentine sighed.

“- It was Brotherhood this, Brotherhood that, always judging and making the worst assumptions of people-“

“John.”

“- And you _never_ left your power armour, always wearing it, that was pretty weird-“

_”John.”_

“- But now… You’re okay.”

Danse stared at Hancock, who beamed back. “… Okay?”

“Yeah. Really becoming one of the team. Heh, and I like what you said too.”

“... Thanks? Which… what part?” It was a blurry ramble to him now.

“’You don’t have to be human, to be a person’. That’s real nice. Ain’t that right, Nick?”

Valentine was already lighting up another cigarette and stood by the stairs patiently. He nodded. “A lot of people, especially ghouls, could have more of that sentiment round the Commonwealth. Who knows, some people might open their minds after reading that. As you said, Piper does make a difference in her own way with words.”

Danse felt his cheeks burn at that. He cleared his throat and stood from his chair. “Let’s… go get that drink.”

Hancock, who was a good head shorter than Danse, wagged a finger in front of his nose. “Nuh uh, we’re doing this, going all the way. No holding out, it’s on! Preston my man, you in brother?”

Preston, smiling, shook his head. “No thanks. I’ve got to patrol the south and organise the others for guard duty.” 

Hancock deflated at that, but Danse nodded. “I can relieve you for the early morning beat, if you want.” (Danse decided at that moment it was time to talk to Preston about that position, and see if it was still open).

Preston blinked in surprise at the offer. “Thanks man. I would appreciate that. See you in the morning then, don’t drink too much now.” He touched his hat respectfully to them, and left out the front door.

“So after all that, you’re just gonna sit around and drink one beer?”

Danse raised his eyebrows. “Who said anything about just a beer? I can take you on, ghoul, even with an early morning patrol first thing.”

Hancock’s face split into a wide grin, “That’s what I’m talking about! You’re gonna regret this, tin can!”

“As if, ghoul.”

“That’s what I am, and after what you said, it’s not really an insult now.”

“… Beef jerky.”

“HEY! You’re a rust-bucket then!”

“My well-kept power armour says otherwise.”

“Pfft, whatever, beef jerky is tasty – you saying you wanna eat some of this?”

Valentine chuckled at their bickering and shook his head. He followed them upstairs, flicking the light off as he went.


End file.
